


Puberty

by lilnepp



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Other, alternate title: Noodle Learns To Drive, good wholesome family times ™, my first gorillaz fic so please forgive me if it's ooc i'm trying my gosh darn best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilnepp/pseuds/lilnepp
Summary: To any outsider, a life within their band would have looked like a ridiculous and possibly even dangerous environment. To Noodle, it felt like home.A small collection of memories Noodle has of growing up.





	Puberty

To any outsider, a life within their band would have looked like a ridiculous and possibly even dangerous environment. To Noodle, it felt like home.

For example, on the eve of Noodle's fourteenth birthday, Murdoc decided he'd bake a cake. Some aspect of his ego was wounded in an earlier conversation, something about 'you never take care of the band' - Noodle only heard bits and pieces of the quickly escalating 'chat' - and then the usual sound of a converse shoe hitting the wall hard enough to leave a dent. 2D unknowingly pushing his luck with every breath; a normal occurrence. At some point, Russell had joined in the conversation, possibly hoping to seize some sort of birthday preparation now that Noodle wasn't in the room.

"We could bake a cake." 2D suggested, before the almighty thud rang out again, this time with a glass smash.

"A cake? Girl hardly eats as it is. She's thin as a bone."

"She's a kid, Muds. Just go down to the store and buy her one."

"Oh, spare me your thoughts. If Noodle wanted a cake, she should've asked for one. I'm not sacrificing any of my time for some silly teenager, and neither are any of you."

"It's almost like you can't bake a cake. Never seen it happen before." Russell taunted.

"Will you shut up? I've baked hundreds - no, thousands of cakes. No one bakes a cake better than me. I'm the full package. I just don't feel like it tonight."

"You're an egotistical maniac with no consideration for other people."

"I don't have to listen to this."

At some point later, in the middle of the night, Noodle grew very thirsty after a sweaty nightmare. Stepping out into the hallway, feet light upon the ground and breathing almost silently, she made her way towards the kitchen.

Which, suspiciously, had been left lit.

The fluorescent glow of the one swinging light bulb illuminated the space just outside the doorway, and the closer Noodle got, the more interesting the noises coming from within were. Some grunting here and there, an all-too-familiar egomaniacal voice talking to himself and the sound of whisking. Peeking in the door, Noodle could see Murdoc standing at a bench, maybe doing one of his five great deeds so he could brag about what a great leader he is, likely for an interview. Colourful birthday candles sat next to some of the worn kitchen equipment, and a piece of paper that simply said "haPPy birThday NooDLE" with the E backwards in ballpoint pen was propped up against the wall, possibly intended to be a cake topper. But there was something more to the moment; Murdoc, in just his underwear (standard) talking to himself (also standard) about how great he is, even creating mumbled scenarios in which everyone is surprised at how great his cake baking skills are, was definitely uncanny.

"' _Oh Murdoc_ ,'" The man mumbled in a high pitched voice. "' _You're so great, I can't believe you baked a whole cake for your little guitarist, that's so sweet_ '. Yeah, I know love, real heroic of me, right? ' _Of course, you rockstar you._ ' I'm just so considerate and caring. ' _Take off your shirt._ ' Feelin' a bit frisky, are we?" He alternated between a woman's voice and his own for at least another minute, and then made some weird kissing sounds.

Muds was generally not a people person. He may have been in possession of shards of charisma, and may have been able to charm collaborators and interviewers, but at home, he could be a real prick.

Yet here he was, 2:48 AM on an early Wednesday morning, whisking cake batter and greasing up trays. It almost felt like... how family should feel. She never had a real 'family'. Sure, it was Murdoc, but maybe she could overlook it just this once.

Until she saw a flake of dead skin fall into the mix.

It was a good moment while it lasted.

Quietly as she could, Noodle grabbed a water bottle from inside the refrigerator (thankfully, the louder Murdoc's ego got, his daydreaming went with it) and took one final glance as his back was still turned towards her.

The cake ended up being quite burnt, as Murdoc fell asleep waiting for it to bake, and no one dared to take a bite after seeing all the dandruff fall out of Murdoc's hair while he scratched at it during an off-key rendition of 'Happy Birthday', but the sentiment behind it was still quite thoughtful and, daresay, kind.

  
A few years before, when she was around eleven or twelve, Russell took the time to buy a language translation booklet to try and understand - "reach out to", as he later put it - what Noodle was saying most of the time. This was before she had remembered English; a time where the only decipherable communication between Noodle and anyone was six strings and a pick. She remembered him sitting down with her in her bedroom at Kong Studios, Japanese-to-English book open and many pages dog-eared, as they both tried to make sense of what the other was saying. She knew simple English phrases; 'Hello', 'Goodbye', 'Thank you', 'My name is Noodle', 'Play a touch higher' (this one was Murdoc's teachings), and Russell knew similar in Japanese, but something about the experience, looking back on it, felt like... bonding.

Of a family kind.

"Haji.. Hajime... mash... ite?" He stuttered, a look of patience and concentration on his face.

"Nice to meet you." Noodle replied in English, assuring him that his translation was right. She nodded as she spoke.

"K.. Konnichi... wa?"

"Hello." Another nod.

The language barrier was getting a bit tougher as time went on, with many confused words and gestures, as well as general structures of sentences, but each felt like they were coming to a level of understanding.

"Have a lovely... day." Noodle smiled after reading the translation from a sheet of paper she'd grabbed in hindsight. Russel smiled too.

"Boku wa onamae wa Russel desu." Russel said.

The two exchanged simple phrases for a while, helping each other when needed, but for the most part they worked in sync to understand each other. The whole experience felt genuine and refined, something she couldn't gain from Murdoc or 2D in the same way. This was a kind of Russel-ish thing; making room to understand and appreciate. She had to tell him she got this - the situation, the empathy, the effort. He made an effort to recognise her and learn with her.

Noodle took the Japanese-to-English book that was sitting on the bed, half-consumed by the duvet, and flipped a few pages. Russel watched curiously, wondering what she would come up with this time; they were getting more advanced with their sentences.

After scribbling some words down neatly (precision was more Noodle's thing than anything else), she held the paper in front of her, concealing the words and reading them out one by one like a sight card exercise.

"Russel," She began slowly, trying to get her pronunciation right and to make sure she was using her terms correctly. "I want to thank you for learning. I..." She squinted at the word, just there on her page in pencil and at the tip of her tongue, the many letters forming in her brain.

"I app..re..ci..ate Russel."

She gave a smile, hoping that the phrase was understandable enough that he could grasp what she meant. After all, she'd spent a solid few minutes getting it all together. But Russel's face remained stoic, and then appeared perhaps even a little bit confused. What if she wasn't clear enough? Or if the words she miraculously strung together (in her opinion) didn't make sense?

He gave a toothy grin, patting her shoulder. "You're alright, kid. You're alright." He chuckled. Noodle decided Russel was someone to trust in times of hardship, someone who would lend a hand when in need. Russel was sensitive. Someone who made an effort to understand Noodle in a way the other two hadn't.

Even if the language barrier put up a bit of a wall between them, they always had their shaggy dog-eared Japanese-to-English book and the memories of an afternoon well-spent.

  
Several years later, not long before the incident with the El Mañana visual, an old car had found its way into the bands' yard. It was nothing special - a faded red colour, just rusting around the edges, dusty windows, a disintegrating key lodged into the drivers door. Not in the keyhole, of course. Someone had crashed it into the front gate, so there was a large dent in the front bonnet, but since it was in the yard and nobody had bothered to call a tow truck, it technically belonged to the band.

It was a hot day, humid for midday, and somewhere, crickets were already chirping with the same kind of urgency such as that of danger. The overgrown grass was itchy and needed mowing, but Murdoc had put it off for weeks and started trying to shove it onto Russel unsuccessfully, and then onto 2D, and occasionally even Noodle herself. It remained tall and itchy; the long lost chore.

"What're we gonna do with this pile o' crap? It's bloody _useless_." Murdoc scoffed. The four of them were standing around the small car, inspecting for whatever they thought the parts could be fit for. Ornaments, something to make noise with, maybe even repurposed flower vases. Murdoc kicked the rusty vehicle, popping out a tail light in the process.

"It's just junk. Junk, junk, junk, junk, _junk!_  Absolutely worthless. Couldn't even get a colander out of it, I bet. It can rust away for all I care." The grumpy man continued, even though everyone else had tuned out. They had learned that trick long ago. When Murdoc realised no one was really listening to him, he said something under his breath and sauntered back inside, probably to have a couple drinks and then go back to sleep.

"I think it could be done up a little. You know, new tyres, paint job, the deluxe." Russel noted quietly, nodding as he spoke to  
himself. He had a hand to his chin thoughtfully, the other on his hip.

"Maybe even some fuzzy dice."

Noodle yanked the lodged key out of the door, producing a terrible scratching noise like nails on chalkboard. 2D and Russel quickly threw their hands up to their ears.

"Careful, Noods. Late night." 2D remarked gently.

She nodded, holding her fringe out of the way as she pushed the key into the proper keyhole, before turning it and opening the door. Immediately, a giant puff of dust blew in her face like a leaf blower. Russel chuckled as she looked up, now covered in red and brown specks.

"I'll be inside." He said, turning and heading back to the headquarters.

"You know, Noods," 2D began, holding a hand over his forehead, blocking the sun. She turned towards him, her full attention given to him.

"We could do this car up, yeah? Just you an' me. It'll be fun."

She thought about it for a moment.

"Yes, that would be nice. Do you know how to restore vehicles?"

"Got no clue. We could just buy a ' _car restoration for dummies_ ' book or somethin'. We'll learn, yeah? Give us somethin' to do in the downtime."

By downtime, of course, 2D was referring to Demon Days and the production of said album, which was lightly pushing everyone to the point of stress. Maybe hammering and wrenching and all that other tool stuff would be a useful physical outlet for all that stress.

"Okay, sounds good. When shall we start?"

Over the course of several weeks, 2D and Noodle became obsessed with the fixer upper. Trips to the hardware store, once boring and confusing, quickly became delightful. Holding a power drill wasn't as scary as it initially seemed. And when they worked together on one part of the car, they got it done quicker. On this particular day, they were returning from the local automotive with some seat covers and fuzzy dice.

Murdoc didn't exactly 'approve' of the focus away from the album, but was promised that the car was available for a video if needed.

"I think we did a good job here. It doesn't even look like the same car to me." Noodle marvelled, adjusting the fuzzy dice on the front mirror, per Russel's request.

"You're right. It looks much better now, doesn' it?"

"Precisely."

"Should we give it a test run? We can go through the basics of a manual car. Get you on the righ' track for your learners licence."

Noodle processed this. The prospect of driving was... intimidating. But also exciting. And exhilarating. And frightening. She'd seen Murdoc drag race on the streets before and decided long ago that she wanted a slice of that particular cake.

"Can we? Really?" She asked, getting more excited the more she thought about learning to do donuts and skids and how to cut corners real quick.

"Yeah. Just basic stuff, though."

They got into the car, Noodle in the driver's seat and 2D in the passenger's, but Noodle stopped short.

"The key! We never got a replacement, and the one we have is too damaged."

2D reached into his pocket, pulling out a sterling silver car key.

"Got it remade a couple weeks ago. Just put it in the ignition and put your gear in reverse."

Noodle blinked.

"Key in the keyhole next to the wheel and turn."

She did so, the engine they'd put in just a few days ago roaring. They both felt a surge of pride when nothing seemed to go wrong.

"And pull the gear back, like this,"

2D demonstrated by pulling it into the appropriate gear while Noodle watched intently, trying to memorise the movements he made. He pulled it back into neutral.

"You have a go, Noods."

She mimicked his movements almost perfectly.

"Now put your foot on that pedal." He pointed, and Noodle quickly slammed her foot down, sending the car back abruptly and fast.

2D began to panic, grabbing her arms to try and signal to stop. Noodle lifted her foot the moment she'd realised that she'd applied too much force to the pedal, and apologised profusely. The only thing between their new paint job and a dead scraggly tree was a stark six centimetres.

"'S alright, Noods, just be a bit more careful. It doesn't take a lot to get goin'. Here's how you go forward."

Again, she followed his movements and the car came alive, moving slowly and cautiously at first as Noodle became familiar with the different gears and the amount of force that was needed to move the car, but once she had grasped the extreme basics and they'd found an old dirt road just off the lot, they were cruising like no one's business. She wound the manual window down.

"I think it'll be real good once we get a radio. We can play some of the new tunes and test out the radio quality, yeah?"

Noodle nodded, focused mostly on what was in front of her. The path they were currently driving on was sided by large oak trees, and they were approaching an apple orchard.

"Remember, with corners, you have to -"

2D didn't get a chance to finish as Noodle sped up towards the apple farm gate, ignoring the stop signs. He held on tightly to his seat, hands white as they both screamed, one in fear and the other in thrill, as a panicked farmer quickly opened the front gate, waving his hat angrily as they passed.

Noodle hit a hard corner - she was a fast learner - and they cruised through the orchard for a little while until it came to a dead end. Noodle stopped the car, both passengers breathing heavy and coming to terms with their experience.

"You're sitting in the passengers seat on the way home." 2D told her, pointing a finger accusingly as the farmer and some other men approached. Noodle's hair was blown all around her, stuck that way due to the wind. The two got out of the car and 2D apologised to the livid farmer, who complained about damages. Noodle took her place restlessly in the passengers seat waiting for 2D to return.

"Not a word of this to Russel." 2D said, and Noodle made a 'zipped lips' gesture. For what reason Russel shouldn't know, she was unsure, but 2D hadn't been overly strict on her with the driving, so she decided to do him a solid. She would later learn that Russel pitched in for the chromatic hubcaps and that they were far less chromatic now that they had been taken for a good spin through mud and dirt. They drove carefully (and lawfully) back home, where Noodle decided she really, really loved cars. And racing. And possibly even drag racing. And she wanted to do even more of it.

  
Growing up in the band's odd dynamic and unconventional family environment was... interesting, for sure, especially compared to the families on the sitcoms she liked to watch sometimes, with a mother and a father and a few children and a dog. But she wouldn't trade them for the world. They let her be her own person, bound by very few rules, and let her cultivate her own interests. They still cared for her, although in an unusual sort of way, and made conscious efforts to mind her instead of just tolerating her. They would be lost without her, and she would be lost without them.

To Noodle, Gorillaz felt like home, and that was good enough for her.


End file.
